


The Dangers of Zombies, Rain, and Personal Morals

by alexavindr (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Banter, Crack, Erik is a Little Shit, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Humor, M/M, Poor Charles, cursing, idek, it's literally a stupid conversation about zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-24 21:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alexavindr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is down about killing zombies. Erik tries to cheer him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dangers of Zombies, Rain, and Personal Morals

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mess. Like Jeb Bush. The problem is this didn't start out with the same plot as it ended up having, so I added a bunch of stuff in. Whatever.

"Fucking fuck impaled on a fucking goddamn _stick,"_ Erik spits as soon as their van is out of sight from the horde. Charles is almost hyperventilating, his skin spattered with blood and general grime, his hands shaking as they grip the steering wheel. He uses one of them to run a hand through his hair. Erik lets out a shuddering breath, his head in his hands, and starts again. "Jesus Christ's asshole —"

"I get it, Erik, for God's sake, let me drive without you using your entire profanity dictionary." Charles' voice is tremulous, incredibly shaken. Erik can't blame him. They went into the town for some fresh water, and there was at least _five hundred_ zombies waiting for them, the fuckers. They barely got out alive, and they only got three bottles of water. Of course, they have more back at camp, but it was the main mission, and it's annoying when the dead bastards think it's okay to just fuck up their plans like that. Gas is a nicety; they're lucky they didn't have to walk there.

Because they certainly wouldn't have walked out, that's for sure.

Thanks to Charles' impeccable aim with a pistol, they got to the van _just in time._ Erik will never stop appreciating how fucking badass his boyfriend is. And he's with him until he dies, that's for sure. Almost out of necessity, really, and Erik's glad he found the one living person on this earth who will tolerate his whining.

At this point, he's kind of surprised Charles hasn't kicked him out already. Not because he isn't useful; he's much stronger than Charles and can use a knife like no one's business, on top of giving possibly the best blow jobs in the entire world. Erik can say that now, because if he was good at it to begin with, he no longer has much competition left in the entire solar system. And zombies just bite your dick off and eat it; they have rather awful technique. But Erik is also pretty annoying, and there have been times when he's been afraid that Charles will leave him to the zombies.

Except that he doesn't, and Erik isn't alone in this mostly-kind-of-dead world. He's incredibly lucky for that; he'd probably go mad if he was traversing the land by himself, and curse to himself instead of someone else. He thanks whoever fucked them up with a zombie virus for Charles every day.

"Just—" Erik begins, then stops, because he doesn't know exactly what he wants to say, just that he wants— _needs —_to say _something._ Maybe how fucking done he is? How hot Charles looked shooting people who used to be sentient between the eyes? How much he misses the old MTV? Erik sighs. "Just _fuck."_

That sums it up pretty damn well, actually.

"Yeah," agrees Charles quietly. "Fuck."

They drive in silence, now, Erik fixated on Charles' hands, covered in grungy black finger-less gloves. Charles' eyes are set dead on the road in front of them, rarely ever blinking. There are little to no zombies on either sides of the road. It's just peaceful. It's quiet, save for the sound of the van chugging along the concrete and the low hum of the air conditioning, interspersed with the soft sounds of their breath. Almost no thoughts are coming to mind; Erik's brain is at rest.

Erik kind of hates it. He hates silence just as much as he hates the apocalypse. It's time _wasted,_ time they could be using to say something, use his voice. Any second he might not be able to anymore. Any time there's silence, Erik breaks it.

Erik clears his throat, and he can almost _hear_ Charles' eye roll.

"You know," Erik says, leaning back in his seat and looking at Charles, "Sometimes, you have to make a statement; you have to look inside yourself and say, 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Not fucking this, I'll say that right fucking now. Not. Fucking. This."

Charles nods and continues to breathe, in and out, in a steady rhythm. He's gotten used to Erik's rants by now; it's nothing new. But he should know that ignoring them is only going to make them worse; he's been with Erik for three years, by now, Erik's almost disappointed.

But Erik is not focused on that, not really, because Charles is in that _state_ again, the one where he's contemplating whether or not the zombies he's just killed amount to human lives. They don't, and Erik tries to tell him this, except every time Erik gets him to tell him what's wrong, that's always the issue. Erik's the only one who can get him out of it, and that's usually by being absurd.

Charles has always been this way; hating death, hating killing. He only kills it if saves their lives. Erik hates to think how many zombies they actually killed today. Ten? Twenty? In his mind, that's nothing, twenty zombies the world no longer has to worry about, but to Charles, those people use to exist, used to breathe and laugh and do things of their own volition. Erik kind of sees it that way; he acknowledges they _used_ to be people, but they aren't anymore.

This is just part of living with Charles in a zombie apocalypse. No action is left without finding the fault in it. It's like Charles hasn't realized that, now they're in a post-apocalyptic world where literally anything can happen, his own personal morals don't even _matter_ anymore. Sure, he can stick by them, but they were really only in place for society, right? And the only person he's ever around anymore is literally _just_ Erik, who honestly doesn't care about them as much as he cares about Charles' natural personality.

"It's like... if you hate getting wet, why would you go outside in the rain? You wouldn't, right? So, I hate zombies. I shouldn't have to go out into the zombies. They'll fucking murder me, for God's sake, I'm not going out there with dead things that want to eat my flesh." Erik is now drumming his fingers on the glove box, _badum badum badum badum._ The noise is almost calming to him, like rain on a windowpane. For Charles, though, it probably irks the shit out of him, but this is Erik's own way of coping. Charles has had his fifteen minutes of silence to collect his thoughts. It's Erik's turn now.

(Yes, even though this is supposed to cheer Charles up, Erik needs the noise. He'll just have to distract Charles from that specifically.)

"You 'go out into the zombies' because you have to get supplies to live," Charles says. Erik lets out a huff of breath.

"It's the principle, though." Erik shifts in his seat-belt to fully face his boyfriend, who looks at him out of the corner of his eye. Erik needs his full attention for this to work, usually, but since they're on the road he'll just have to adapt. "If you hate something, you shouldn't have to interact with it. It's like drama in a middle school, or... drama in a high school, y'know? Why does it have to be that when it's _zombies,_ we can't avoid it? Like, rain, yeah, I'll go in the rain if I have to, but _zombies?_ Hell no, I'm staying inside. Except I can't. The logic is fucked up."

Charles shrugs. "Yeah, except that it's not. The rain did not decimate the population of the entire world. Rain does not make it much harder for food and water and gasoline to be accessible. Rain does not force you to go find those things to keep surviving."

"Rain is actually _worse_ than zombies, in theory," Erik protests, and Charles laughs. "Seriously though! Think about it; with zombies, you can knife them, or shoot them, or just dodge them. But with _rain,_ you have to have an umbrella, and a raincoat, and that shit _still_ gets on you! You can't even run away from it, either, you just get wetter."

"Zombies can kill you though, rain can't," Charles points out. "So, I feel like maybe zombies are worse?"

"I'm talking about it _technically,_ Charles, not _literally._ I already said 'in theory'."

Charles shrugs. "Right, sorry. Your point makes complete and utter sense now. My apologies." Erik grins at him, his shark-toothed grin, because Charles is _finally_ starting to come back now; like the clouds are parting and the sun is shining through.

"It's okay," Erik replies, "We all had a rough day."

Charles nods and smiles down at Erik fondly.

"So rain beats zombies in danger factor, but not in annoyance factor, if I am interpreting what you're saying correctly." Charles is smiling now, and Erik does an internal fist pump. That's _his_ work. _He_ did that. Charles is smiling because of the stupidity of his arguments, sure, but it's a smile. Erik will take what he can get. At least he's not thinking about moral principles anymore. One can't have too few of those in the apocalypse, if anyone were to ask Erik. (Which they usually don't.)

"In unavoidable...—ness," Erik finishes awkwardly. "Basically, yeah. But rain isn't more dangerous than zombies, that's not what I meant. It's just... you can't get away from it once it's there. Like an STD. Always there, no treatment, no cure. You're stuck with that."

A sharp laugh comes from the driver's seat. "You're the only person I've ever met who has ever compared _rain_ to an STD. And as bizarre as that, too."

"I may as well be the first and only person on Earth," Erik says proudly. "You're in the presence of a unique being."

"I'm well aware, dearest." A hand—no glove; probably because of the blood on it—ruffles up his hair. Erik presses into the touch and smiles, inwardly purring. "Your advice and outlook on the world is unprecedented and one of a kind, there's no doubt about that."

"I totally would've been the next Socrates if the fucking world hadn't been destroyed by flesh-eating facsimiles of human beings," Erik says. Charles hums deep in his chest, and bends down quickly to deposit a kiss on Erik's forehead.

"That you would be, darling," he replies warmly as he draws back. He looks towards the road and smiles. "That you would be."

**Author's Note:**

> How was it? Have any requests? Direct them all [HEEEEERE](https://alexavindr.tumblr.com) at the tumblr. My theme is green. It's relaxing. Lose yourself and all consciousness and reminisce in the hue, slowly giving up your ability to form thought over to me, and my icon of James McAvoy wearing a green jacket. Be at peace with the green. Let the green hold you in its loving embrace. You are home, my child, my friend, you may finally rest. Your journey is over.
> 
> I talk about dicks and memes I hope you enjoy your stay


End file.
